Sweet Shorts
by Sakana-san
Summary: Collection of BardxFinny drabbles and short stories, drastically reorganized as of 8/1/2012. Chapter 51: Bard gets Finny tangled up in a high school drama mess that neither can get out of alone.
1. Gift

Welcome to Sweet Shorts! This has turned into an ongoing collection of random oneshots and snippets of ideas I've had about this pairing. Please enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Kuroshitsuji, its story, or its characters; any and all deviations from the world depicted by Toboso-sensei are solely my fault and I make no profit from writing this work of pure fan imagination. As much fun as I've had with writing disclaimers for every chapter, as of the latest revision, consider this entire multichaptered work disclaimed.

**Chapter warning(s)**: These will be posted if the chapter contains explicit sexual or violent content, offensive language, first person POV (because it bothers me how they're not all written from the same perspective), and anything else that's potentially distasteful.

* * *

**Gift**

Finny loved to sleep near nature. He felt at home under the vast ceiling that was the sky. He was never any good at sleeping in trees, however.

He considered this as he stared at the cook, relaxing in the branches high above his head. "Bard, lunch break's over!"

The cook's eyes snapped open and a grin spread across his face at the sound of his friend's singsong voice. "Oy, Finny! Climb up here and see this!"

His adventurous spirit called forth, Finny sprang up to the branches where Bard reclined, his sleepy eyes surveying the garden grounds before them. "What's up?" The gardener looked around, mildly confused, as there was nothing special he could see about their surroundings.

"Actually I just wanted to give you something, Finny." Bard positioned himself as close as he could to the gardener and wrapped an arm around the wide-eyed boy's shoulder.

His eyes lit up. "Like a present?"

"Sure, you could call it that," Bard grinned, reaching his free arm over to muss up the boy's strawberry-blonde mane.

"Okay!"

He was so cute, Bard thought, right before he gave Finny a gift on the lips.


	2. Crime and Punishment

**Crime and Punishment**

The smaller boy found himself sitting on the kitchen counter, sweat forming on the back of his neck with the notion that he wasn't supposed to be there.

"Can I go now, Bard?"

"Not yet, silly. Just watch, I'm gonna show up that butler once and for all!" He turned away to rummage through the pantry for ingredients and perhaps an even stronger blowtorch than the one he'd used last week; that monstrosity had barely fit through the doorframe.

Finny sighed, a feeling of unease manifesting itself in his gut. This wasn't sounding safe, knowing Bard's cooking style. "But if Mr. Sebastian catches me in here he'll be sure to punish me! You know how scary he can be..." the boy trailed off, pouting faintly. Then, raising his ever-animated face, currently sporting a look of heartfelt hurt from staring at the floor, "I'm better off outside where I can't do as much harm!"

"Don't worry about that, you little rascal. He won't catch you." The ex-soldier's brash confidence only slightly reassured the younger blonde. The cook continued, "Besides, you don't need him to punish you."

Finny's innocence was endearing, the cook knew, but something simply had to be done to break it. Bard laughed wickedly and tilted the boy's chin upward with a flour-dusted finger. "You've got me to do that."

"P-punish… me?"

"Yeah." His eyes were half-closed with a dreamy smile on his lips.

"What… do you have in mind?"

"You know I would. I've got dishtowels to tie you down with." He relished the way the other boy's eyes widened in – well, what was it? Fear? Excitement?

The petite youth leaned backwards, until his head bumped the wall behind him. The cook leaned toward him, settling his hips between Finny's knees, but as he got closer to the boy's wide eyes, the countertop pressed against his abdomen, restraining him. He considered wrapping his arms around the boy and sliding him forward to overcome this hindrance, but he wanted to savor the moment of closeness before having too much fun.

"Would you let me tie you up?"

"Um…" he swallowed hard, eyes widened in the same excited fear. "I might be strong enough to break free…" he still spoke timidly. "But… if you can hold me down," he was rapidly blushing deeper and deeper, his voice becoming more and more unsure, "I'll take what you give me!" His statement was concluded with whatever attempt at bravery he could muster, though it came out more hesitant than he meant.

"You're adorable."

"Too adorable to tie up?"

"Nope, sorry, Finny Boy, y'ain't getting' away from this!" The cook stood on his toes, successfully reaching the gardener's face with his own in a quick, but nonetheless tongue-filled kiss. Finny's blush remained.

"Bard…"

"Don't talk. Come here."

The boy clambered down from the countertop, standing with his hands awkwardly at his sides. He stared straight ahead, into Bard's collarbone, before the man pulled him closer into an embrace.

"Ready for a little fun?"


	3. Sugar

**Sugar**

"Pastries," he explained, resting a charred hand on the shoulder of the boy's white shirt as he leaned over his shoulder, his head level with Finny's. "For us."

All the young gardener could do was gape with wide eyes at the platter before him. The kitchen table was empty save for a pile of beautiful delicacies – puffy éclairs, rich Danish, warm turnovers, sparkly sugar doughnuts, and others of which he didn't know the names practically emitted their own light in the morning sunshine.

"What does this one taste like?" he asked, pointing to the one on top, which had a deep red swirl of jelly in the center and was drizzled with opaque white glaze. "Why is this one so plain and fat? Is that one filled with something sweet? I hope this is chocolate and not something else…" the boy was excited, pointing from this one to that one, but nevertheless he refrained from helping himself.

"Finny, don't worry, these are all for you, me, Maylene, and Tanaka. I can tell ya for a fact that neither of them likes sweets as much as you and I do, so they're pretty much… just for us." Bard patted the boy's shoulder, leaving grey smudges all over the worn white shirt, and straightened his posture.

"Does that mean I can try one of each kind?" The cook didn't think his friend's face could possibly light up any further from smiling. Apparently he was wrong, as he learned from the results of his next statement.

"Sure does." He grinned widely, casting aside his cigarette and reaching for a bear claw. "Try this one."

Finny bit into the heavy pastry unhesitatingly, without bothering to reach for it with his own hands. Bard pulled it away, taking a bite for himself, as he retreated to the kitchen counter, his eyes dancing with an emotion Finny would have recognized as adoration had he been looking into them.

"It's yummy!" He closed his eyes, relishing the taste as it wrapped itself around his tongue. He received merely a chuckle.

With a flutter in his stomach, the ex-soldier hoisted himself on the marble countertop next to the sink. The younger boy reached for a long, chocolate-covered éclair, and made a surprised squeak when he found it bursting with vanilla cream. Bard had to look away, fearing that he'd burst with happiness, just like the éclair, at the boy's innocent pleasure.

After a few minutes, Finny was perched on the counter next to Bard, trying to juggle three different half-eaten pastries.

"Gimme that, Finny!" Bard reached for the jelly doughnut that was about to have an abrupt meeting with the floor. They both laughed. "Here."

Once again, Finny found himself taking a bite from the pastry in the cook's hand. His bottom lip caught the edge of the older man's thumb, and quite suddenly, Bard's insides exploded with warmth. _So soft and gentle! I wonder how they'd feel on mine…_ He blinked to clear his head. The boy was too innocent for him to be having these kinds of thoughts just yet.

_Perhaps I'll change that_, thought Bard, considering his innocence. Finny reached for the last bite, meaning to grasp it with his own hands and pop it into his mouth. His indulgent smile turned to an expression of complete surprise as the cook instead raised the bit of sugary dough out of the boy's reach to his mouth, coaxing it through his lips.

Such a sensation was incredibly intimate, Bard thought, as his fingers slipped between warm lips.


	4. Pillows

**Pillows**

_Bop!_

"What – Bard!" Finny whined. "How am I supposed to sleep when you're throwing things at me?"

The cook's mattress shook with silent laughter. "Alright, I'm sorry. But you looked so gloomy, staring at the ceiling like that."

The boy glared across the darkened room. "I was almost asleep, you know."

"Okay, I said I was sorry! Can I have my pillow back? Mmph!" He let out a muffled exclamation as the pillow sailed into his face, almost knocking him off the other side of the bed.

This time Finny shook with laughter. "Serves you right," he mock-pouted. His triumph was interrupted by a whoosh of air and another soft _fwump_. "Oh, it's _on_, Bard!"

Not even four minutes later, the two had settled down, after furiously shredding their only pillows and beating the crap out of each other. Crumpled in a panting mass on one of the beds, they panted, the older one chuckling, and the younger one giggling.

"How's about we call it a draw?" proposed the cook, who received an enthusiastic nod of agreement. Bard patted the younger blonde's knee, hoisting himself into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress, preparing to stand.

He was quite confused when he found himself flat on the bed again, in a sudden rush of backward force. Bard found himself face-up with the boy's shaggy blonde locks hanging inches from his face. "Bard…" the boy hesitated, speaking softly.

Bard swallowed hard. Finny couldn't possibly know of the tempest of feelings he'd initiated inside the cook. He'd tried to fight it – avoiding being alone with him, keeping about his gruff demeanor, and generally denying his feelings for the boy – but this was too much for him. The older blonde resolved to listen to the boy for no more than ten seconds before losing himself completely.

_One._ "Yes, Finny?" He tried to sound calm, but his voice shook in a raspy whisper.

_Two._ "Bard, I have to tell you something…"

_Three._ "…but I don't know how to say it."

_Four._ Silence ensued as the young blonde's face hovered over Bard's.

_Five._

_Six._ "Finny…"

_Seven._ The face above him, already flushed from their skirmish, turned a deeper hue of rouge. The boy struggled with his words.

_Eight._

_Nine._ "I think I…"

_Ten._ "…like you."

_Time's up._

Finny squeaked in surprise at the lips that suddenly met his. They were chapped, but so gentle against his mouth, slightly agape with shock – the man he'd admired for so long was acknowledging, and apparently returning, his feelings. The knot of nervousness that had settled itself in his gut unraveled rapidly in a burst of warmth, flooding his entire body with a rush of blood. That was all he knew, and by the time his mind caught up with him, the two found themselves tangled up in nothing but the sheets, each other, and their raging passions.

The next day, the innocent little gardener's head was spinning with the not-so-innocent acts he'd committed the night before. "Bard," he whispered to the older man's sleeping face, "I think I'm going to like this."


	5. Cute

**Cute**

"They're always together."

"Yeah, an' remember that time 'e carried the young master back home?"

"Yeah, he got all defensive about it, made him put him down. That was cute."

"Just like the young master. Always tries to be independent, that one. But 'e's always had someone to take care a' him - Mister Sebastian's just takin' his parents' place."

"Yeah."

"...Wait, you just said he was cute! Ya got a crush on 'im or somethin', Finn?"

"Ah! No, no, it's not like that, I just meant... well, he's a cute kid, don't you think?"

"I guess. I can think a' cuter ones."

"You don't know any other kids."

"One's standin' right here."

"You... think _I'm_ cute?"

"A' course. C'mere, you!"

"Bard, what're you-"

"Mmmm."

"...mmm..."


	6. Reversal

Warning: sexual and objectionable content. Flames will not be tolerated!

**Reversal**

"Say it when you get there," he huffed.

"I will. Oh, God, I'm gonna… uhhh…" he continued his moaning, calm and weary, but with quiet intensity to match the feeling inside him.

"Don't make me come first, you bastard," Finny growled in his ear, leaning across his sharp shoulder blades. Their bodies continued to collide, and Bard saw stars first. "Say it!" the gardener husked through a scratchy throat.

"_Finny!_" Bard repeated his name over and over, cursing and praising, curling in on himself through the waves of pleasure that exploded from his core.

Finny rode out his climax mere seconds after his partner, with similar screams of agony and bliss. They lay in a sweaty heap, tangled in each other, gasping for air.

"You're right, Bard, topping is a ton of fun."


	7. Afternoon

Warning: first person POV, possibly AU

**Afternoon**

It was the kind of afternoon I lived for. Sunny! Clear! With a breeze to _die _for! The kind of afternoon that was rare for this season, and the kind of afternoon that made me want to lie in the grass under my favorite maple tree (the big one by the front door, although the one closer to the road would have sufficed nicely too).

It was the kind of afternoon I wished would stay forever.

The kind I wished I wasn't too drugged up to fully experience.

Okay, I wasn't _that_ drugged up, but it sure felt like I was in a haze from the aftereffect of the cold medicine. I'd woken up half an hour ago, absolutely delirious from sweet, blissful sleep. How long had it been since I was able to really take a nap? Work hadn't permitted it for months, now. Through the increasingly sparse coughs, I had fallen into the deepest, most satisfying sleep - only to wake up and find out what I was missing outside.

I wouldn't be permitted out the main doors in my state. I'd have to settle for lounging about the balcony, though at least it faced west into the blinding sun. A permanent smile had been etched on my face. It wouldn't be going anywhere until, at the soonest, nightfall, and not even then if the night decided to be as clear and inviting as the afternoon was now.

I would have been content to lie on the hard granite, breeze ruffling me thoroughly, sun scorching my pale skin, until I got hungry or even beyond then. But my plans were changed in an instant upon the arrival of a certain visitor.

"Where's the sicko?" a voice roared from the hallway. Protests from the attendants outside my door were only briefly effective, and then the door was torn open, squeaking on its hinges at the point it always did - a point which, if I had to, I could stop it just short of opening, and squeeze myself through to escape notice of the servants - and into my room came the only person I would have wanted to see in my state.

I heard each step across the rich plush carpeting, steps I already knew would be taken in heavy, likely muddy, boots. _No matter how many times I tell him to be careful on my rugs._

"Hey," he said roughly. I opened my eyes and turned my head against the solid floor of the patio, and squinted through the golden-rainbow rays of sun, trying to make out his slouching form. It was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, as far as I could tell.

"Hi," I replied, gently, the sound drifting lazily on the wind. "Missed you."

"Missed you too. Heard ya got sick! What's up with that, huh?"

"I don't know. It's not like it happens often, though."

"Yeah, whatever." He paused, then continued in his gruff manner. "So why ain't'cha out in the garden?"

"They wouldn't let me go. Besides, I'm still weak on this stupid medicine they gave me -"

"And ya actually obey them? What are you, nuts?" By this time, I could see his face clearly, and he was laughing with his eyes, almost closed from mirth.

_His eyes, his laughter - that's partially why I'm in love with him,_ I thought, going a bit warm in the belly from the realization.

And after he swept me up off the granite and into the late afternoon sun, taking down a few servants on the way out, I realized even further why I adored this man so much. He sealed my thoughts with a mind-blowing kiss, and we lay together in the grass beneath the big maple tree, fully in love, and not caring about the rest of the world at all.

Except, maybe, for the beautiful sun up above us.


	8. Rivalry

**Rivalry**

"We'll show that Sebastian up real good!" The cook pounded a determined fist into a calloused palm, biting his cigarette in a smirk.

"I'll polish the tea sets, the staircase, and the windows until they shine to blind!" The maid pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose so that they only partially hid the excited blush spreading across her cheeks.

"The garden will be the most spectacular the young master's ever seen it!" The gardener's eyes sparkled, distant with visions of flowering shrubs and towering trees.

"LET'S GO!"

* * *

Bard ran down the hall to the kitchen. "I'll make a dinner fit for kings tonight. Sebastian'll be most impressed with me!"

* * *

Maylene flounced down the stairs, taking care not to trip. "My – er, Mr. Sebastian just has to be impressed with the way I'm going to shine this place up! I can see it now…"

* * *

Finny tore across the grounds, pruning shears in hand. "This'll be the coolest garden I've ever tended! Sebastian is definitely going to be more impressed with me than with the others!"

* * *

Mere hours later, the three misfits lined up before the butler in the foyer, looking disheveled and disgruntled to varying degrees, though mostly just disappointed. "Forgive me for remaining confused, but I simply cannot comprehend the ridiculousness of this situation. Please, indulge me once more. You –" he turned to Bard, first in line – "burned down the kitchen _and_ the supply closet? And you –" Maylene trembled under his frustrated glare – "broke not only the newest tea set and its case, but _also_ the front window? And you –" Finny tried not to cry as he focused on the boy – "leveled off the elm grove _and_ the flower beds in your… enthusiasm?"

They all nodded miserably, practically in perfect synchronization.

"Next time… please, do not try so hard. Perhaps controlling your energy will save more than a few innocent trees." Coattails whipped as a black blur swept up the stairs to begin making amends. He hadn't even enlisted their help, which was a bad sign for sure.

"Oh, Finny, don't cry, don't cry! It's okay," the maid fluttered and stuttered and clutched the young blonde to her shoulder as he bawled.

"Yeah, Finn, he didn't mean to pick on you!" Bard thought back to the butler's final comment. "That… was just a pretty handy analogy, I think. Don't worry about it." He smacked the gardener heartily on the back, consequently rattling Maylene, who released Finny as he wiped his eyes.

"You really think so? Mr. Sebastian doesn't… hate me?" The sensitive youth looked at his mentor sorrowfully, eyes shining with traces of tears and the beginnings of hope.

Bard opened his arms. "Yes, I really think so. Who could bring themselves to hate you? C'mere, ya damn cutie."

A comforting embrace from Bard made his world seem right again. Maylene blushed and averted her eyes, knowing full well that the relationship between the two went deeper than mere endearment. "You know, I think I have some laundry to take care of!" she threw over her shoulder at the two blondes who didn't even bother to stare after her, though they were grateful for her consideration.

"You heard Sebastian. No more stupid competitions, okay, Finny?"

"Oka_mmmh_!" No matter how many times the cook kissed him, he still managed to lose his breath, and control over his knees, at the feelings welling up inside him. Bard caught him by the waist and pulled his body closer, gently withdrawing his lips.

"No more rivalry."

"Yessir!"


	9. Knowing How

Warning: first person POV, language, sexual content. Flames will not be tolerated!

**Knowing How**

"You do WHAT?"

"You put your mouth -"

"Isn't that... gross?" He grimaced. "I mean it must not taste very good."

"Surprisingly, it does. It's kind of an acquired taste, even though the receiving end is really the better bargain."

"So why do I have to..." he hesitated again, blushing like crazy, making me want him so much more. "..._give_ it?"

I would just have to make him understand. "Maybe a little incentive would do you some good."

"Wait! Oh, God, Bard..."

"See, now you know how good you'll make me feel when you give it to me," I said, wiping my mouth.

He shook his head, unable to speak. Until, that is, he looked across the mattress at me, set his mouth in a determined, almost grim, smile, tugged at my belt, and said, "Consider this my thanks."

"Oh, FUCK, Finn..."


	10. Separation

Warning: anime-only elements

**Separation**

Sebastian was holding a hand to his forehead. That was never a good sign for the incompetent servants, who were standing before him in the front garden. The day had only begun.

"We will be hosting a benefit dinner for the East London Orphanage tonight. I'd like to assure you that I will be able to handle all of the preparations, and your services will not be required. The young master requests that you all take on separate tasks for the evening."

The maid looked at him quizzically. The cook stared at him glumly. The gardener piped up, "Sebastian-san, what do you mean by 'separate tasks'?" He twisted his grimy fingers in his slightly cleaner shirt.

"Maylene, you will be accompanying Tanaka to the town house this morning to prepare it for the young master's residence next week." The maid bobbed her maroon-topped head. "Finnian, you are to attend to that monstrosity of a dog in the back lands of the estate for the duration of the party." Finny's eyes lit up at the thought of his rather liberating task – at least he wouldn't be indoors. "Bardroy, you are not to set foot in the kitchen at any point until tomorrow at noon – you'll be managing the wine cellar tonight." Bard chewed on his cigarette thoughtfully.

Sebastian sighed, not for the first time that day, though perhaps out of relief more than frustration. Nobody would be getting in his way today. He tried to hide a smirk, turning his back to the servants in an unspoken dismissal and tugging gently, unconsciously, at the fingers and then the wrist of his left glove.

"Mr. Sebastian really knows how to handle things, doesn't he?" Admiration gleamed in Maylene's eyes.

"Hmph." Bard crossed his arms. "I think _he_ thinks we're a bother."

"We do get in his way all the time, though!" Finny chirped. "I'm always making mistakes right before some important guest arrives or something. He's so good at cleaning up, but I think he gets tired of us all messing up, don't you?"

"Oh, right, like when I tripped and knocked over a portrait in the hall, and he spent hours in the city finding someone to repair the frame before that businessman from France arrived," Maylene admitted, abashedly.

"And… well, I guess I'm always causing explosions in the kitchens, no matter who's coming for dinner."

"Well, tonight should be fun, right? I get to play with Puru-Puru!"

"You get the fun job," the sandy-haired blonde growled at the strawberry blonde. "I'm condemned to a frickin' basement all night."

"I'll be missing out on all the fun," the maid sighed, knowing it would be a quiet evening for her in the empty town house.

"What are you three doing still standing around?" A voice from behind the servants made them all stiffen.

"Sebastian –" the collective response began, before they all commenced in stuttering various excuses. The butler merely stared his icy red eye-smile, pointed at the front of the mansion, and watched them all snap their mouths shut and swing their heads to see. Tanaka waited at the reins of a carriage and a beastly grey dog scratched at its collar, tethered to a post.

"Please, everybody, do your best." He gave a slight bow, smiling with his mouth and eyes closed, and swept off toward the front.

Maylene sighed and started off toward the carriage, but stopped short when she turned her head back to see Bard holding Finny's hands between them. The men would never understand why she swooned so, even at the slightest brush of lips on cheeks or the gentlest meeting of fingers. They didn't really care anyhow.

"Don't work yourself too hard, okay, Finn?"

"I won't, Bard. Really! All I've got to do is babysit the dog. It'll be fun! Don't you go overexerting yourself, okay?"

"I won't. I can sleep between rounds. Although hey, who needs sleep, right?" A wink at the younger boy brought an even deeper blush to Maylene's cheeks at the innuendo.

"I'll miss you tonight, Bard."

"I'll miss you too. Really, though, sleep. You'll be no fun tomorrow night if you're too tired."

The maid sighed, enraptured by how in love the two were. It was common knowledge that they had been head over heels for each other since they met, although they kept display of their affection to a minimum (much to the disappointment of some).

The sigh brought the blondes out of their trance. "Maylene…" Finny began, a bit embarrassed, though making no motion to drop the cook's hands.

"Oh! Forgive me for eavesdropping. It's just… you two are so sweet!"

"We haven't slept in different rooms since we all arrived here. Separation…" Bard began to growl, mumbling, before trailing off with thoughts of what everyone imagined they did when they slept in the same room.

The maid shook her head and flapped her hands. "I'm sorry! I'll go now. Please don't let me interrupt such a beautiful romance!" And with a flurry of clumsy skirts, Maylene took off toward the carriage and a very displeased Sebastian. Who, after sending the horses on their way, focused an impatient glare at the cook and his gardener.

"See you tomorrow, lover boy."

"Bye, Bard."

And they kissed, not caring if a hundred Sebastians had been staring them down.


	11. Inspiration

**Inspiration**

It was in the way the boy began to smile day after day, able to put his tortured past behind him. He began to move on.

It was in the way he had learned to see everybody as a potential friend, with a small possibility they could be an enemy, instead of the other way around. He had learned trust.

It was in everything that touched his new life, especially when he realized that he couldn't escape from the man who'd led him down his new path - not the butler, who had let him live, but rather the cook, who had taught him how to live. He couldn't escape that rogue smile, that brash optimism, that honest criticism. He had found love.

So when the older man pinned him into a kiss, he knew it was right, and let whatever happened, happen.

He'd embrace the chance to learn more from the man who had inspired him since they met.

And the first night he did learn – he learned more about a terrible, beautiful passion than he could ever have imagined possible.


	12. Seeing Red

**Seeing Red**

"But-"

"No 'buts,' Finny. She's off-limits."

"But-"

"No 'buts!'"

"You're mean, Bard. I trust you with my feelings but you don't want to help me?"

"Yeah, sounds about right."

"..."

"No pouting, kid. I know what's best for a growin' boy, and what's best for this one right here isn't wasting his time swooning over a hopeless crush."

"But-"

"Listen kid, I know it ain't fair, but it's never fair when you want someone you can't have. Trust me. And stop pouting like that! You know that's my weakness."

"That's why I'm doing it, silly! Hmph. And why should I trust you?"

"Because I know from experience, kid."

"You mean you have a crush on someone who you can't have?"

"Exactly."

"Who is it?"

"I'm not telling you! And don't look so excited. You'll never get it out of me."

"Why not?"

"Let's just say it's not socially acceptable for me to be with the one I like."

"But - don't interrupt! - it isn't for me either. Right?"

"That's a matter of status, Finny. Madam Red is way out of your league. Not to mention the age difference!"

"I know... but-"

"Enough with the 'buts'!"

"Jeez, calm down Bard! I'm sorry. You were about to tell me who you like."

"Was not."

"Why not?"

"'Cause you'd be embarrassed. So would I."

"Why? Is she too old for you too? Or... too young?"

"Too young, if anything. And if you simply must know, it's not a 'she'."

"..._What_?"

"See? I told you you'd be embarrassed."

"..."

"What is it?"

"Well, I was just thinking... since you're... that way, well..."

"Go on."

"I was just thinking how lucky someone would be for you to like them."

"Aw, are you blushing?"

"No! I mean, maybe, but - uhm. I don't know!"

"You still wanna know who I like?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"...It's you."

"...Really?"

"Yes."

"YAAAY! I like you too, Bard!"

"Huh? Wait, what about Madam Red?"

"You're much better than her!"

"Wait, what're you - mmmmm."


	13. Light

Warning: first person POV

**Light**

The light always catches those eyes. They're more than blue, more than green. They shine _and_ sparkle. The sea, the ocean - I grew to hate being at sea during my travels as a soldier, but I've always admired its beauty. His eyes are like the sea. Always changing, never constant in appearance.

I've come to recognize the way they change with his mood. When he's sad, they get big and round and adorable, even though I hate to see him suffer. When he's beyond sad - depressed - they are downturned and almost empty. That's when it hurts me the most. When he's happy, I'm happy, and the world seems right. I've never seen him truly angry, so that's nothing to worry about, either.

His eyes drive me insane. He doesn't even have to try, and he can weaken me just by looking at me. Shimmering sea-green in the sun is a look that paralyzes me. He has no idea what he does to me.

So when he stands in my kitchen, begging me with his eyes to raid the pantry, how can I deny him? But at the same time... how can I control myself, keep from throwing myself at him? One of these days, I'm going to give in without warning. I can tell. I don't care what he thinks of me after that. All I want is to be closer to those gorgeous seafoam eyes than I've ever been before. After that, I'll deal with the consequences as they come. I just don't care.

Even if he hates me, I need to see the light shining off every speck in those amazing eyes. I need to _see_ them.

But on the other hand, I want to make them close in pleasure.

Perhaps I can find a way to do both.


	14. Solution

**Solution**

"B-but –"

"Come on, babe, I'm not usually this… aroused in the morning. Humor me?"

"But Bard, we just did it last night!"

"And?"

"I'm _sore_!"

"…Oh. Sorry."

"You're really fun, but when you're rough I'm the one who has to suffer."

"What, you don't enjoy the pain?"

"Well, it's nice _during_, but afterward it's just, like, 'ow!'"

"Hmm. I'm sorry, babe. Didn't even think about that."

"It's okay. Maybe later? Tonight or tomorrow?"

"…Ya know, I have an idea. A solution."

"Really?"

"Does the number sixty-nine have any significance to you other than numerical?"

"Uh… no?"

"We will just have to fix that, then."


	15. Caffeine

Warning: language, first person POV

**Caffeine**

"Bard! Moooor-ning!"

_Ugh… He's a morning person. Why did I have to sleep with a morning person? I'll be damned if I'm not gonna strangle him before the fifth day of this "living together" stuff._ "Mrngh," I mumbled.

"I got you tea from the kitchen!" The bubbly blonde held out an elaborately carved silver tray with a single teacup settled in its center.

"What kind?" I sat upright and reached greedily for the cup, knowing I should at least thank him, but also knowing that he'd sense my gratitude. I rubbed my face. _I need a shave and a _heavy_ dose of caffeine._

"Uhh… I don't know. Mr. Sebastian made it," he admitted a bit abashedly. It was adorable how he avoided my gaze when he blushed. "It smells really nice, though!" His giant, round eyes met mine with his newfound enthusiasm and a sweet grin. "It's kind of like flowers or fruits."

_Damn. Damn that herbal shit._ His gorgeous face fell at my hostile silence. _As long as he doesn't pout at me…_

"You don't want it, Bard?"

I grunted, still wary of that deadly pout. It would lower all my defenses, banish all my common sense. Even at six in the goddamned morning.

"No, Finny, it's not that – well, uh…" I fumbled with my words, the way I always did when his cuteness affected my rationality. "Fuck," I muttered, immediately regretting it and hoping he hadn't heard the obscenity. "I just need some caffeine right now."

"Oh!" The way his face lit up made my heart absolutely soar. "I know just what you need!"

"And what would that be?"

"Coffee!"

"…Coffee?"

"Oh." He hesitated. "I thought coffee was popular in America."

"I _do_ know what it is, silly! I'm just surprised we have it here. I mean… I work in the kitchen! How do you know this before I do?"

He giggled a bit mischievously. "Mr. Sebastian asked me to help him carry the crates inside when the shipment came."

"Crates? Of… coffee?"

"Uh-huh! For 'general consumption.' Meaning for you-EEP!"

_It's a good thing he's so strong,_ I thought as I crushed him in a sudden hug.


	16. Angel

Warning: first person POV

**Angel**

He looked like an angel in the bright morning sun. He was pristine, beautiful, his porcelain skin far less flawed than the smooth marble statues that lined the garden walkway. His thin eyelids twitched ever so gently in his quiet dream. He was perfect, despite how I'd broken his innocence the night before.

Don't get me wrong – I like sex. I'm a total pervert. But it's hard for me not to appreciate the sentimentality of our close moments, and looking at his lovely sleeping form, I was dwelling more on his purity than his loss of it. It was a moment that was more suited to a slow, gentle kiss on the forehead than a thrust or a moan.

I knew he didn't like it when I smoked, so I lit myself a cigarette before he woke up. He'd smell it, of course, but he could only scold me; he couldn't take it away from me or stamp it into the ground to get rid of it. I sat in a small chair near the bed, continuing to admire him.

How did I luck out so well? He's absolutely beautiful. But, even more than that, I adore him. I admire his optimism, his strength, his innocence, which somehow remains intact despite anything I could possibly do to him. I am indeed fortunate to call him mine.

And he is. He's mine to love, mine to _love_, and mine to care for. He's my lover, my boyfriend, my partner. The one I want to live with, to establish a life with, as my best friend and _the one I love_. Because I love him, and I don't know if I could ever be without him anymore.

So as I put out my cigarette and continued soaking up his naked beauty, I knew that he was inching closer to consciousness, and I waited patiently for his beautiful eyes to open in that sleepy, blinking way. I hoped with all my heart that I'd have those eyes, that seraphic body, that incredible person, waking up in front of me every morning of my life.

Because I am wholly in love with him.


	17. Hold Still

A/N: This loses its charm without reference to its inspiration - the vest outfit Finny wears in the first episode of the anime.

Warning: first person POV

**Hold Still**

I hadn't wanted to ask him for help. I mean, sure, it was nice, but if he hadn't said anything, I wouldn't have done it.

It wasn't like I didn't want to be around him. No, really, I _did_ want to… I was just scared. Lately, I'd been getting nervous and jittery around him, and I was pretty sure I liked him. And yet there I was, standing in front of the mirror, while he fussed over my shirt and vest.

"So you tuck it in as tightly as possible, but keep it neat so it doesn't get bunched up. Especially with the vest over it." He smoothed his hands across the front of my shirt, looking clean and wonderful in a pristine chef's uniform. I tried to keep my heart from pounding – _relax your muscles, your breathing, your thoughts_ – but the blood rushed to my face anyway.

When his fingers dipped ever so slightly inside my trousers, I had to draw the line. "I can do it, Bard. Thanks for the help." I twisted sideways, intending to break his hold on me, and I turned to face him where he knelt at my side, but he kept his grip on my belt and I was powerless. "Bard!"

"Hold still, you!" he chided gruffly. I was getting really uneasy – being this close to him was not good for my self-control, but still he continued to hold on to me. He looked up into my eyes with an intense gaze that made my heart ache. "You're always slipping out of my grasp whenever I want you the most. I can't handle this any more! So hold still, dammit!"

I was shocked. He reeled me in as he stood up, and kissed me with a passion I didn't know he had.


	18. Adorable

Warning: first person POV

**Adorable**

He caught me looking at Sebastian the other day. It developed into an interesting conversation.

"Bard…" he started, with that cute little hesitant half-whine. He's just too sexy. Oh, but I'm getting sidetracked already! Sebastian had just whisked past us, balancing a ridiculously unnatural stack of God-knows-how-valuable silver on a platter, and I was probably wide-eyed in wonder at the sight. Little Finny noticed the path of my gaze.

"Bard, do you… like Sebastian?"

"'Course I do! I don't hate him. But I'm not attracted to him _at all_," I emphasized. "That privilege is for you only." I ruffled his hair. It was absolutely adorable. Just like him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. I was worried! Sebastian's pretty amazing, though, isn't he? I mean, he's really good-looking, and he can do amazing things like just now, and he's –"

"Ya know, if we weren't this close," I interrupted, crossing my fingers to demonstrate, "I might think you had a little crush on our butler."

He blushed at that, but his eyes stayed wide and fixed on my own. "I'd never! I mean, well, even if I did, which I'm not saying I do, I wouldn't even think of betraying you, or even…"

He babbled on. I didn't care. I was smiling down at him. He's adorable.


	19. Hot

Warning: first person POV

**Hot**

I just couldn't do anything but sigh. He was exasperating.

Not that it wasn't endearing, but... well, it was just one of those things, ya know?

I pushed him, perhaps a bit too roughly (_he usually likes it that way_, I thought with a mental smirk), into bed. "Don't be stupid, darlin'."

"I can still work," he said weakly, trying to stifle a cough, which resulted in quite the coughing fit.

I sighed yet again. "Finnian, you _will_ stay in bed today and if I have to use Sebastian as a threat, you know darned well that I will."

He gave up, nodding in defeat, with tears beading in the corners of those paralyzing eyes - from coughing, I hoped.

"Good boy."

"But can't I at least -"

"Whatever it is, no. God, you probably even have a fever, you dumbass!"

"Hey! That's mean!"

"Probably true, though. Let me feel your forehead." I reached to brush his hair out of the way, and as gently as possible, touched the back of my hand to his head. Great, I thought. He's burning up.

"Bard, I can -"

"Hush," I murmured, kneeling down by his bedside, smiling tenderly despite my frustration. "Rest. I'll get you some tea and soup, but it's best if you just sleep."

He choked on another cough, and turned his face away from mine to avoid spluttering into it. I chuckled, despite how miserable the poor kid sounded. Once he was subdued, I settled my lips softly on a flushed cheekbone, feeling him try not to squirm underneath me.

"Bard, I'm covered in germs..."

"Do you think I care if I get sick?" I laughed, my adoring gaze fixed on his pink-tinged face. "Just an excuse to be with you a bit more than usual.

At that he blushed even more deeply. "Just go get me some tea, Bard," he said as he rolled over.

I couldn't have cared less at the moment about germs. Even two days later, when I started sneezing like mad, I didn't regret making out with him over chicken broth.

It was actually pretty damned hot.


	20. Mess

**Mess**

When Finny slept, he had the innocence of a child and the beauty of an angel. He breathed smoothly and softly, the only indication of nightmares in the slight crinkle of one eyebrow. His wiry blonde hair stuck out every which way, begging to be gently brushed back into place. His baby-smooth skin was just waiting to be touched, even if cool hands might make a shiver run across them. A delicate collarbone and strong neck muscles rippled beneath that skin when he stirred. He was positively beautiful.

When Bard slept, he sprawled himself across the entire mattress in a wrinkled, sloppy, _snoring_ mass of sweat and facial hair. If he mumbled a few words in his sleep, he might even wake himself up. Each night, he wreaked havoc on the sheets in a different way, but they were for the most part a tangled mess woven around his restless form. Lips may part indelicately; eyes may be puffed with fatigue. He was a mess.

But together, they complimented each other's appearance in the loveliest way. Bard, sloppy but protective, would wrap an arm around his young lover, despite the risk of losing blood flow in his fingertips. His snores wouldn't even slightly bother Finny, who would curl himself into his protector, resting his delicate head on his own hands and on Bard's strong chest. They would both fall asleep with the tiniest of smiles on their faces.

Together, they were a beautiful mess.


	21. Doubts

**Doubts**

Finny couldn't bring himself to look him in the eyes. The floor held his attention as his mind went into overdrive.

"I-I can't bear losing you as a friend… so… I want this now, but if it turns out that you're going to regret it, I'm terrified of what's going to happen between us…" he trailed off.

The older man looked down adoringly at the boy. "I know how you feel, kid, cause that's exactly what I've been thinking. But maybe… well, I have a feeling these thoughts are coming from us doubting each other, not ourselves."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm sure of myself, at least. I've just been worried about you and whether you'll regret it."

Finny calmed his shaking as Bard wrapped him safely in his strong arms. He breathed normally again, thinking about how true the older one's words were. "I feel the same way…"

Bard ran his fingers through silky blond locks. "It's gonna be okay. We'll make this work."

And they both believed it, as soft lips pressed against softer ones, and the night that had just become morning became a new start for the two of them.


	22. Magnets

**Magnets**

Bard kissed Finny.

Finny was surprised at first. He'd never given much thought to romantics, especially with another man. But somehow he didn't resist, though whether from utter shock or from general acceptance he wasn't sure. The only thought in his head was that it wasn't bad. He didn't know what to do, so he let Bard take over to see where this would lead.

Bard pulled his lips – with difficulty, as though attached to Finny's by magnetic force – away from the kiss. His half-lidded eyes, glazed over with lust, met a pair of wide green ones, clear and shining from excitement. They understood that this would not be merely a fleeting moment's desire.

With fluidity in his tough, corded muscles, Bard lifted the younger boy to his lap. Finny made a soft squeak as he lost his balance and slid to one side, but he threw his torso forward and his arms around the cook's neck to steady himself. Bending his wrists and locking his fingers together, catching some of the American's wiry spikes of hair between them, he slowly looked to the other's face, which was suddenly closer than he'd expected. Bard smiled a toothy grin, relaxing his lips just enough to place a gentle kiss on Finny's forehead.

"Bard…"

"Hmm?"

"Can… you kiss me again?"

And the cook readily obliged, with enthusiasm, as they connected once more.


	23. Didn't Know

Warning: first person POV

**Didn't Know**

I didn't know being so helpless could turn me on so much. My heart pounded louder than the smack of my wrists sounded as they hit the wall beneath his iron grip. His hands were so warm, so solid around my skinny little arms. I didn't know why; I just knew. I knew he was the one for me. I knew at that moment what to call that feeling I had whenever I thought of him: not admiration, but _love_.

I knew that I wanted more of this butterfly feeling. That was certain. But I felt as though I craved more, even if I didn't know what more would bring. I didn't know how to tell him what I was feeling. I didn't know if I could.

I didn't know how to interpret the look in his eyes. Was it pain, was it sadness, or was it something similar to what I felt?

"Bard…" I really didn't know what to say. But I had to say something before the blood drained out of my fingers. They were tingling a little. I couldn't think of anything coherent. A sigh escaped, but I put a little more of my voice into it than I'd meant to. I blushed hard and looked away from his beautiful face when I realized it sounded like a _moan_.

His chest rumbled as he practically growled my name. "Finn…" I shuddered, my arms flexing beneath his grip but not willing to actually throw him off me, as much as I knew I could.

I opened my eyes as my left wrist was released and his hand came from below my chin to raise my face upward. I felt thin lips on mine, soft despite how rough I expected him to be. It just felt so incredibly right. As we parted, I looked into his eyes and just knew.

I knew I saw what I was feeling in his gaze.

I didn't know what the future would hold for us. But I knew what had just happened was reason enough to believe that the world would be right from then on.

And as he grabbed my wrists firmly again, pinning them even higher above my head and leaning in for a second helping, I didn't know where our lust would take us, but I knew that I'd like it.


	24. Kissing

Warning: first person POV

**Kissing**

I realized he was different when we kissed.

I'd kissed girls before, sure. Hell, I was pretty sure I'd been in love with a nurse I'd fooled around with back in the army. I'd even kissed a lot of guys. I'm no slut, but I've got enough years on me. Cut me some slack.

My first kiss, ever, had been really nice – I was young, and she was the cutest little brunette, and my first real crush, but I was too nervous to enjoy it as much as I could have. From then on, my confidence grew, and for some reason I preferred kissing over most other forms of affection, even lingered on it more than most guys would before going any further sexually.

But I'd never gotten the absolutely otherworldly feeling that kissing him gave me.

It was something I can never fully describe, but if I had to, I'd start by saying how happy it made me. Even after he left, it was like the world was completely okay, that I had nothing else to ever worry about. I could have died happy right then and there. It made me feel physically lighter, too. My heartbeat had sped up so quickly during the kiss, and when it settled, it was like I couldn't feel my pulse at all. My lips were numb and tingling from the sweet taste of his mouth. In thinking about how it had felt, I had to remind myself to breathe.

That feeling stunned me. What had that kid done to me? I was incapable of even attempting to be productive for the rest of the day. When I saw him next, he was smiling that sweet, bright-eyed smile of his, but he was somehow… glowing? It was as though he exuded uncharacteristic confidence, instead of the unbridled enthusiasm he always seemed to display. We exchanged glances in silent greeting, in the presence of others, and there wasn't a trace of embarrassment.

That day, I knew he was the one for me. I knew there wasn't any possible way for me to feel more amazing than having him felt. I knew I loved him, and I was sure I'd stop at nothing to make him feel the same.

And that night I got to confirm that feeling, over and over again, as we kissed over and over again, both of us realizing, and fulfilling, our desires for one another.

I loved him. And after we made love, I knew I'd never stop loving him.


	25. Raining 1

**Raining**

"I hate it when it rains."

Bard looked up from his scrubbing to throw Finny a questioning look. "Why's that? I don't think it's so bad."

The delicate boy sat on the countertop, hands beneath his thighs, looking sourly at the floor. "I hate it because I can't go outside without people getting mad at me."

Bard laughed, drying his hands on the dishtowel slung over his shoulder. "I should've known." He should've known that his little Finny wouldn't complain about being inside unless there was a reason he wouldn't be allowed outside. He was sure the young gardener wouldn't be physically hindered by rain. No, Finny would've been happy outside all the time, despite the weather. He strode around the island counter in the center of the kitchen and hoisted himself up next to his friend, flinging a nonchalant arm over his shoulders. "But you know, it's not so bad inside. You can make the most of what you've got."

Finny rested his head on Bard's chest, curling his fingers near his chin and closing his eyes contentedly. "I guess so. I just feel like there's nothing to do inside but go to bed."

Bard smiled wickedly. "We could do that."


	26. Raining 2

Warning: not a companion to the previous chapter; to be taken as a separate set of thoughts about the same topic

**Raining – 2**

Finny loved the rain.

It was rejuvenating, a source of nourishment for the plants he loved so much, and it tended to be much more gentle on them than he himself was. He liked that.

The grey skies that came with the rain were a small price to pay, too, since he knew that the sun was right there above those clouds. It still shone, despite the cloak that covered the land.

What he didn't like about the times when it rained was that Sebastian insisted that he remain indoors unless there were things outside that needed to be sheltered from the rain. Usually, however, the butler could predict a storm far in advance, and things would be picked up and stored before the sky even clouded over. The young gardener missed the times when he could enjoy the feel of cool rain on a warm day, or when he could splash barefoot in the mud without a care in the world. Those days, before Sebastian learned to curb Finny's enthusiasm for playing in the rain (if only for the sake of the carpets), were long gone due to strict orders from the one man he truly feared.

So, knowing he'd be caught somehow, even if he only went out for a minute, Finny had taken up station in the open doorway of the kitchen, frowning out at the yard and the hills beyond the estate walls.

"Pouting as usual, Finny?" The sound of a knife chopping vegetables on a cutting board had ceased, and the cook wiped his hands on his apron to join his young friend.

Finny turned to face the inside of the kitchen, trying to compose his face in anything but a pout. "I just hate being forced to stay inside."

The cook hoisted himself up to perch on the spacious kitchen island. "I know, buddy. It feels so oppressive when the rules restrict us. But I'm still grateful to be here." He looked out the window and into the distance with a gentle smile on his gruff face.

Finny, spellbound by his older companion, forced his eyes away from him and latched the door closed. "It's not so bad here with you, though."

"Yeah?" The cook laughed. "You're not bad company, yourself."

Finny blushed and continued to look down, hands fidgeting behind his back. "I wouldn't mind staying indoors any day if I could spend it with you, Bard."

Bard's grin turned to a look of sudden realization. "You trying to tell me something, Finn?"

Finny couldn't say anything. He could barely bring his eyes up to meet the older man's, and when he finally could, his face was thoroughly red.

"Come here, kid."

As if in a trance, Finny crossed the distance between them slowly, shakily, not meaning for his confession to occur that soon, but still unsure if Bard knew what he truly meant.

He wasn't kept in suspense very long. The cook's strong arms took his shoulders and pulled him close, firmly but not roughly. They were so close that Finny wondered if Bard could hear his erratic heartbeat. His breathing was quick, but interrupted when the cook leaned down and planted a quick kiss on his trembling lips.

"That what you mean?" asked the former soldier.

In response, he was nearly tugged off the counter into an ecstatic hug. "Yes, Bard!" He could hear the smile in Finny's voice, and he slowly wrapped his own arms around his young friend.

And outside, the rain continued, nourishing the garden and blanketing the estate with its gentle melody.


	27. The Piano

**The Piano**

"Finny," the cook inquired through teeth gritted around his unlit cigarette, "y'ever heard them play this thing?"

The shiny, black giant of a piano always sat to the left of the grand staircase, untouched but, likely, perfectly tuned. Finnian couldn't honestly say he had heard it played. The boy shook his head vigorously. "Nope. But it's so pretty! I wonder what it's even supposed to sound like?" He had imagined Sebastian countless times sitting at the piano, smooth gloved hands gliding over the keys, making it sing - but he couldn't imagine just how sweet the sound could be.

Bard swiveled his cigarette, forming an evil grin. He sat right on the piano bench, slouching toward the gardener, who knelt into the exquisite plush of the red staircase carpet. "Whaddaya say we find out?"

Finny's eyes widened in fearful excitement. "Do you think we should?"

"Of course not. That's why I want to. Don't you?"

"Yeah... but..." he hesitated, eyes dropping and gaze averting. "If we're caught..."

"There's nothing to worry about, Finny! Everybody's in the city right now. We're in charge here." Bard sat back, still slouching his shoulders toward the younger boy. "Besides, it'll be exciting. I have a feeling you'll really like it."

"Won't it leave a trace if we touch it? Mr. Sebastian would find it, wouldn't he? I mean, I think it'd be fun, but..."

"Are you scared?" Bard pocketed his cigarette and assumed a softer expression.

Finny continued to look down. "A little," he said with his most beautiful pout. "I've never done anything like that before."

"I've told you, Finny Boy. You'll love it." Bard slid off the bench and planted his knees on either side of Finny's. The gardener blushed at their sudden closeness, slowly realizing Bard's true intentions.

Through the tickle of his whiskers and the sweet, gentle kisses that took little Finny's breath away and which were totally uncharacteristic of the gruff cook, Finny tried to find his voice. "We're not talking about the piano anymore, are we?"


	28. Daydreams

Warning: first person POV, general oddness

**Daydreams**

We're alone again. He's in the garden, I'm done in the kitchen, and everyone else is away from the estate. And I know what that means for me, though I can never tell what his reaction is going to be. Last time, he got scared. The time before that, he was oblivious. I hope this time, it works out... God, I want him so much!

It infuriates me how much of a pervert I am. I didn't even know I had a thing for guys, until I met him. He's just so perfect. Innocent, sweet... and sweet indeed. The first time we kissed was heaven. His lips are like sugar and strawberries. He's just so awkward and hesitant, and it's really quite adorable. I'm teaching him, slowly, but it's a lot of fun to have control. Dammit, I really am a perv. He's just a kid! _Shuddup, Bard. Shuddup._

But today... he's just outside the main entrance, trimming the trees and inspecting the garden. There's not much holding me back from just plain attacking him. I really just _want_ him. Ugh, I'm getting so turned on just thinking about this... What the hell! I hate feeling like such a dirty old man. But... I just can't help craving his sweetness.

What do I want to do to him? Hehe, you shouldn't have asked. I could go on about this for a while. Right now - you see how he's reaching for those branches? I want to stand behind him and stroke those arms of his. The tender flesh near his triceps... ah, I want to rip those sleeves off and just touch his arms! Feel those delicate muscles, those which could knock me out in a second; taste the salt of a hard day's labor on his skin; make him shiver beneath my touch. I've only seen his bare back once, but I want to see it once more today. I just wanna run my fingers over every bump, every graceful dip and curve of his bones, brush my thumb down the ridge of his spine.

Now, see how he kneels to tend the flowers? I want to wrap my arms around his knees and pick him up, all curled up in my arms. I love how small and helpless he seems when he's confused. I want to lay him down in the clearing just beyond the vegetable patch, the place he goes to get away from it all. I want to _take_ him away from it all, give him everything he wants, whether he knows it or not. Just to feel those tiny knees, those fragile calves, the way they curve toward the ankle, is enough to set me on fire. To run my calloused fingers along the snowy skin of his belly, to make him sigh ever so slightly, to outline his every rib, every scar, every ligament, not letting him worry about the numbers on his neck and what they used to mean to him. Making him let go.

Oh, now see the way he turns toward the sun and the breeze? If only I could be the one to run my fingers through his hair, working it free of the adorable clips he uses. Those strands of golden silk, coarse and yet smooth to the touch. His scent is of honey and hard work. How I want to become a part of him, just to experience everything about him! To feel the milky smoothness of his face, lose myself in those emerald eyes, and bring a blush to that flawless ivory skin. I want to pick him up and feel the perfect curve of his butt in my lap. And finally - oh dear God - finally, I want to cast away those cute plaid pants, and become one with him. Little innocent Finny, crying out in pleasure for the first time in his life. I want that. I can't stop thinking about him. I hope he accepts me as a teacher this time, and allows me to bestow upon him the knowledge - no, the experience - of the next level of love.

*Smack* _Snap out of it, Bard!_ Ugh, I'm sorry, you must think I'm such a sick man. But... I just am. It's his own fault for being such a craveable boy.

Oh, Finny! Let me help you reach those branches!


	29. Comfort

**Comfort**

There were some things about being Phantomhive servants that weren't really suited to Finny's gentle personality. When particularly vicious intruders refused to retreat and the entire team was forced to kill, they did so without hesitation for the sake of their precious young master. Ciel Phantomhive, Queen's Watchdog and ruler of the underground of England though he was, was still a child, and they had to protect him and those dear to him. That was not the problem with Finny.

The problem was when all was said and done and he got around to introspection. His best friend hated to see the delicate boy in such low spirits, and when he began to feel troubled about having killed people, it pained the cook as well. The servants had all been through living hells in their time, before coming to serve the Phantomhive household, but that didn't change the fact that Finny valued life and happiness.

He could usually only be a shoulder to cry on, but on the first night that he did his best with his own clumsy words and told his best friend that he wanted to do so much more for him, Bard finally found some relief in knowing he brought comfort to the person he wanted to protect just as much as he did the young master.

And the night that a kiss on the strong boy's fair cheek brought a smile to that same face made Bard feel that he could die happy.


	30. Library

Warning: AU

**Library**

"B-Bard? What are you doing here?" A meek, effeminate voice came from the other side of the bookshelf, destroying the calm focus into which the graduate student had settled himself, with significant effort. He snapped shut the book he'd just opened, trying not to let his annoyance show at the interruption.

Leaning down to peer through the bookshelf, he caught a glimpse of a white shirt fleeing from his sight. He sighed, standing up straight, knowing exactly who it was, and exactly what he was going to do.

_Three… Two… One._

And he felt a tap on his shoulder. The boy who interrupted him had no right, he thought to himself, to be that cheerful. _It's Monday afternoon, and I've got a million things due tomorrow, and Mondays suck,_ _and doesn't he have class? And I shouldn't have skipped lunch, and I shouldn't be this irritated, he's a good kid, but dammit…_

As the older boy's grumpy thoughts tangled with each other in an almost visible cloud above his head, his younger companion was all smiles and began talking up a storm that Bard didn't think he could handle at the moment.

"So then Maylene and I got kicked out of Tanaka-sensei's class! Everyone else was laughing though, and he only did it because he sticks by his own rules, it was really harmless and we're not going to get in trouble, it was just funny…"

Bard sighed. This wasn't going to end well if he didn't think up a good excuse to get rid of the kid, as well as execute it smoothly without hurting him. He knew how Finny idolized him, and he was fond of the kid, sure. He just wasn't up for dealing with him right now. "Hey kid… don't take this the wrong way, but I kinda have a lot of work to do here. Would you mind if I sat over here and read this book? It's for a pretty big paper I've gotta do by tomorrow…" he trailed off. The smaller boy's face fell just a bit, but his voice was just as cheerful in his reply.

"Sure, Bard! Sorry, I almost forgot about what I was doing too, I've gotta prepare this speech for my next class, and I've only got an hour and a half left… I'm sorry you've got all that work to do. Can I help you with any of it?" He laughed, almost nervously. "Oh, of course I can't, silly me. Your work is much too advanced for me… I'm sorry…"

"I-it's fine, kid. I didn't mean it like that, though, I just don't think you'd be interested in stuff like this."

"But we're in the same field, aren't we?"

"Y-yeah, but…" _Dammit, why am I stuttering? It's like I'm nervous around him or something!_ "But I know you have work to do too, so you know…"

"But I'd do anything to help you Bard!"

A new expression came over the smaller student's face. It was serious sincerity. Finny's hands were suddenly on the sleeves of Bard's t-shirt, and the graduate student found his heart beating faster than it normally did, and he didn't know why, and he didn't like it, and he didn't like the blush that came across his cheeks, his pulse racing wild throughout his entire body…

He'd told himself so many times it wasn't true. He didn't _really_ like men. He _certainly_ didn't have _romantic_ feelings for this kid. He just _couldn't_. But right now, his body and his heart were certainly telling him otherwise. He couldn't help it… his arms just moved on their own, his mouth forming words he didn't have any control over…

"Finny…" he whispered huskily as he wrapped the smaller boy in an embrace.

Finny gasped, his eyes widening in surprise, his tongue caught before it could wrap around the confession he had been about to make. All he could manage to do was tighten his hold in Bard's clothing as he pressed himself into the hug, pressing himself against the broad chest, the warm shoulders, the solid mass of muscle that was the man he'd admired for so long. What he'd wanted to do was admit, simply, that he liked Bard, and he was pretty sure he'd have the courage to say it…

Wthe two made eye contact, as they broke apart, they both knew, and no words had to be spoken. Long gone was the annoyance Bard felt at discovering the younger student's presence; forgotten were the research assignments at hand. All they both wanted to do was stay with each other in the silent emptiness of the library; the only thing either of them wanted to learn about was the one in their grasp.

The books were the only witnesses to their passion.


	31. Lasagna

**Lasagna**

"Dinner time!"

"I'm almost done in the garden, Finny."

"It's going to be delicious tonight!"

"Alright, I'll take your word for it."

"Come get it while it's hot!"

"In just a minute."

"But it's your favorite!"

"Yeah? Which one?"

"Okay, fine, I made lasagna."

"That's great, I love lasagna."

"Come on inside, silly! It's getting cold!"

"You always say that. I'll be there in a little bit."

"But Baaard…"

"I'm almost done! Just let me finish, Finny!"

"Bard?"

"Yeah."

"…"

"What is it- OH."

"You like my outfit?"

"...Wow. Uh, yeah. Wow."

"So does that mean you'll come inside now?"

"Yes, but not for lasagna."


	32. Higher

**Higher**

"Bard - wait, I can't quite-"

"Aaah! That hurt-"

"Hmm, how about this?"

"Oh, yeah, that's better. That'll work real good-"

"Nrgh!"

"S-sorry..."

"It's okay... I'm just trying to... ergh! Higher! That's it..."

"You sure this doesn't hurt your legs?"

"Nope, I'm tough, don't worry. Almost there..."

"Oh god, this is gonna be so good!"

"Uhh... just a little farther... More, more!"

Bard gave Finny one final boost, and the smaller boy reached the final ingredient on the top shelf. He let Finny down from his shoulders, and they walked out of the pantry, confused when they found a very flustered Maylene outside the door, muttering something incoherent before fleeing the kitchen.

"...What's with her?"

"Dunno. Oh well, we've got a cake to bake!"


	33. New Hope

Warning: AU, potentially confusing – italics are flashbacks.

**New Hope**

He was there when his voice first broke.

_"Hah! That was hilarious!" he laughed._

_"Stop laughing..." Finny pouted, completely embarrassed._

_He slapped Finny affectionately on the back. "No worries, kid. Means you're growing up, and soon you'll be just like me, all big and strong and manly."_

_Finny laughed._

He was there when he learned to drive.

_"Steady kid, no left-foot braking. Don't kill me or the car, alright?"_

He was there when he got drunk for the first time.

_"Look me in the eye. Right here. How many fingers am I holding up?"_

_Finny mumbled, struggling to hold his eyes open._

_"Right here, kid. How many?"_

_"Seven..."_

_He sighed. "Wrong answer. Let's get you home."_

He was there in the morning, providing what he could for a hangover remedy.

_"Come on, drink the water first. Y'know that your head hurts so much because your brain's so dry it's shrinking away from your skull, right?"_

_Finny looked at him in horror and lunged for the glass of water._

_"That's it, kid." He smiled._

He was there after his first breakup.

_"She did _what_? That _bitch_!"_

_Finny grabbed his hand before he could storm out of the room after the girl. "Wait! It's okay, I deserved it..."_

_"You deserved to be happy with her, kid! Why the fuck did she sneer and slap you when _she's_ the two-timing whore?"_

_"It's fine, I'm fine. Don't worry!" He smiled, hurt nonetheless, as the tears broke through his barrier and he broke down._

_He still held onto his hand._

He was there to dry his tears that night.

_"You know I've always been here for you, kid."_

_"You have."_

_"You know I'd do anything for you."_

_"You're such a good friend."_

_"Did you know that I'm in love with you?"_

_Without hesitation, Finny looked into his eyes. "I have never doubted that."_

_With a bit of surprise, he replied, "Really?"_

_He nodded. "Really. I know you love me. Because you do the same things for me that I would do for you. Because I'm in love with you too, Bard."_

_"Well why didn't you say so?"_

And as he rolled on top of the smaller boy, tickling him with light kisses, Finny laughed and forgot all his pain for the moment. He'd found new hope in a love that had always existed. It had always been there for him. It was Bard. And together they could dull the pain of the past.


	34. Cake

Warning: first-person POV

**Cake**

He tasted like cake the first time we kissed.

That was the first time I'd made anything close to decent without setting fire to it - it was a rich chocolate cake. Sebastian said, as politely as he could, that it wasn't to the young master's tastes. But I didn't care, because it was to Finny's tastes, and that's all that mattered to me.

He took a bite of it from one of the old warped forks that I kept especially for kitchen use, and his gigantic eyes got even wider as he stared into space, tasting it, and then looked at me. I swear I felt like melting faster than the icing in his mouth. I couldn't help it - there was a bit of chocolate on his lower lip...

I leaned in, cupping his chin slightly, and kissed him. As I closed my eyes, it felt like the most natural thing in the world...

And when he began to lean into me all my doubts shattered as if the world around us was crashing to the ground.

But the world around didn't matter at all.


	35. Waiting

**Waiting**

In the summer, Finny would wait beneath the biggest tree in the garden. It was up on a hill, where he could see the road approaching the estate gates and the drive up to the mansion. When he saw the cloud of dust rising on a hot day, he'd jump up from his patch of grass and run as fast as he could along the driveway to meet the horse that carried his lover.

"Bard!" he'd cry out, with a silly grin on his cute face, as the cook slowed the bay mare to a halt.

"Finny, m'boy!" A hand would come down to ruffle soft blonde hair. "Wanna ride up the hill?"

And he'd jump on behind Bard, holding tightly to the man he loved as they galloped back to their work at the mansion.

In the fall, he'd be raking leaves beneath the tree while he waited. There was never enough time for raking leaves, since he had to do it continuously from the time the trees began to shed them until the time there were none left. When he caught a glimpse of brown riding clothes and brown horse between the brown trees that lined the road, he'd throw down his rake and slide down the hill to greet the returning rider.

He'd be met with a grin as usual. "How's the garden lookin'?"

"Everything's been harvested and cleared out! All I have to do now is rake the leaves."

"Ah, of course. Get back to work, mister!" The cook would laugh, reaching down far enough to give Finny a playful spank before he ran back up to his hill.

During winter, on the days when it was mild enough to be outside, Finny could be found up on his hill amidst several crazy snow angels and a small sled, keeping watch as always. At the first sight of a lone horseman, he'd barrel down the slope, abandoning the sled where it stopped and plunging through the snow as best he could.

"Hey Bard!" he'd greet cheerily, bright-eyed and red-cheeked.

"Well hey there, stranger! How'd you like to warm up by the fireplace with me?"

"I'd love to!"

And Bard cradled him bridal-style across his lap as they trotted away to get warm.

In the spring, Finny would run from the shelter of his tree's canopy between raindrops when Bard entered the gates and galloped toward him.

Bard would see him coming and stop the horse as they neared each other. He'd dismount with a playful grin, splashing his worn boots in the mud, and meet his lover as he swept him into a spinning embrace as they both laughed and kissed.

And during the next summer, Finny would again wait beneath the biggest tree in the garden... for the man he loved to return to him.


	36. Amazing

**Amazing**

Finny was not sure that the sharp pain he was forced to secretly endure for the next few days, and the explicit worries and discomforts that plagued his mind, was worth the minutes of passion to which he'd hopelessly succumbed at a moment's notice.

Not that said passion was instantaneous in the making. No, he pondered, the two had harbored yearning for the other since, perhaps, the initial occurrence upon which they had been acquainted. Neither was predisposed to confess the existence of such sentiments under circumstances of convention…

But then again, it's amazing what being drunk can do to you.

Finny was sure he would have been more comfortable and a lot less worried, had they not weakened their resolve to uphold professionalism between coworkers.

But when he saw Bard's smiling face that morning, the adoration in his eyes told Finny that it was all worth it.


	37. So Wrong

Warning: AU, references to an illicit relationship

**So Wrong**

It was so wrong.

Everything about it was wrong. Ethically, morally, socially.

But they didn't think so.

Neither questioned what made them end up in each other's arms every day after class. It was an inexplicable feeling of attraction, and they knew not how to resist it. All they really cared about was the fact that the other one felt the same pull, the same attraction.

So what, they thought, if it was odd for a teacher to spend so much time with one student?

Who cares, they laughed, if it's frowned upon for two people to be united in such a way as they were, coming from such different places in life and society?

They had each other, due to some such force in the world that allowed them to touch and be touched in just the ways that they wanted. The physical attraction was wonderful, and the times they spent in each other's sphere of warmth led to the blossoming of emotions they weren't quite sure how to explain.

But they never needed to, to anyone else, because it was a secret to be kept.

To each other, they did not need to express themselves because what one felt, the other felt, and the fact that it was mutual was mutually understood.

Sometimes, thought Finny, it was a bit scary. The lock on his teacher's office was functional, but if anyone came searching for Bard and found out that the two of them were locked in the office… well, any number of suspicions could arise.

If, Bard mused, any of his female students knew how fond he was of the slight wisp of a boy who occupied his thoughts, his office, and more often than not, his lap… well, the girls would be distressed to some degree.

But neither really cared about the outside world.

At the end of the day, there was no problem that could not be fixed by a single kiss.


	38. Resisting

Warning: language

**Resisting**

There were times he couldn't control himself and just had to touch the younger boy, as if to make sure he was really there. Most of the time it was nothing serious-it went unnoticed and never raised suspicion.

He could only hope to avoid trouble this time… because there was no resisting the urge now.

As they lay together on the couch, where they had collapsed after a hard day's work, Bard felt the blood pulse through his own arm, as it lay still draped across Finny's slim legs. Both of them had been breathing quickly from a lighthearted chase up the stairs from the basement kitchen, where Finny regularly kept the cook company during the final moments of his shift, and then up the main staircase to the servants' quarters.

He never got tired of looking at Finny. The light flush that invaded the young boy's cheeks was diminishing, but Bard could still envision the rosy tinge on his porcelain-smooth skin, a thin film of sweat making it glimmer in the afternoon light that streamed in through the tall glass window. Bard admired the curve of his ever-graceful neck, only now noticing the gentle jut of his Adam's apple, as it was only visible when he threw his head back like that. If he'd been closer, Bard would have continued trying to memorize the ghost-blue lines of the veins beneath the skin of his young friend's eyelids, as he made it a habit to do when he watched him sleep.

A calloused hand moved toward the small, silent boy's ankle, drawn to touch the skin as if by some invisible attractive force.

He could not resist the urge this time. And he was not sure that it would go unnoticed.

But he didn't care.

Finny was here, within his grasp. Fuck the consequences; he wanted him, and he'd take what he could get.


	39. Stopped

Warning: language

**Stopped**

Sebastian was not one to interfere with the cook's duties until all was said and done, which usually meant that the butler would have pieces to pick up when he'd gone and "blown shit up," as Bard would often say in the aftermath. The head of household did know when to step back, though, and respect the cook's operations in his familiar domain.

However, the cook was merely a cook. He cooked. His specialties were meat and veggies, and though he'd managed not to burn bread before, he did not consider his own area of expertise to be baking.

Sebastian did consider his own area of expertise to be baking. He himself, by some insanely delicate and likely inhuman power vested in him, made desserts. These were desserts that would suit even the young master, whose demand for perfection had, in his own defense, developed as a result of Sebastian's superb ability. So, naturally, Sebastian required the use of the kitchens at times.

One day when the cook found himself lectured for lazing around, he made the mistake of defending himself with the statement, "But Sebastian, there's nothing _for_ me to do!" And he was promptly expelled from the main kitchen while Sebastian made French chocolate cake.

"_If you've got all this free time, then stop taking up space that I need to use!_"

Grumbling, he tromped down the narrow servants' corridor in his heavy boots, and muttering to himself about how there _was more than one friggin' kitchen_ and _where does that guy get off?_ Suddenly, the figure of the gardener appeared around the corner, hand in his hair and a worn-out look on his dirt-smudged face.

"Oh! Bard! Hi!" the boy's expression immediately brightened as he hurried to meet his friend. "Are you on a break now?"

Bard looked a little sheepish, and he felt a smile return to his face. _I hadn't realized how grouchy I must look. I better shape up for the kid! _It wasn't as though he wanted to impress him. Really, it wasn't. "Sorta. Sebastian kicked me outta the damn kitchen."

"Oh no! Did you do something wrong?" His eyes shone with concern and empathy. _That's what I love about him, _he thought before he could even think to restrain his mind.

"No, he's just making something fancy for dessert and I didn't have anything else to do. I've cooked enough food for the next week and stored it away for when we need it, so I'm ahead of the game."

"Oh, that's just like you, isn't it? You're so thoughtful!"

Bard's face began to heat up as he regarded the kid with a bit of surprise. He always thought of himself as the first one to screw up, out of all the servants, and he rarely got praise for what he did do successfully when it came to his actual job description. _Hearing that from him, of all people, can't be good for my lame-ass restraint…_

As soon as that thought entered his head, he knew he had to get out of the narrow hallway before he did anything with the kid that he'd regret. But Finny himself was, unfortunately, clueless. "Do you want to help me in the garden? All I have left are some flower seeds to plant near the main entrance. I need to find them first," he continued to babble as Bard's mind screamed at him to leave, "but you can come with me! I know they're in one of the sheds outside but I wanted to get some water, cause it's pretty hot outside, and-"

Time stopped when Finny was silenced by Bard's rough lips against his own rather chapped ones. _Damn good silencing method_, thought the veteran, long before his common sense kicked in and he pulled away.

The only thoughts that were going through Finny's mind were apparent in his vividly expressive and currently very widely opened eyes. He was frozen, and the shock, confusion, and inexplicable pleasantness of the moment kept him immobile. He wasn't even able to respond to the kiss, standing there with his lips slightly open as the taller one put distance - and height - between them, and time proceeded as normal.

But when a strong hand reached up to pull rough lips down to chapped ones once more, after a grunt of surprise, time stopped once more.


	40. Meeting

Warning: AU

**Meeting**

It could be a swift glance across a dark bar, an accidental brush of fingers on another hand, a near collision around a street corner, an offhand comment at which the other laughed – the moment at which two strangers met. With luck and the right combination of personality, they bridged the distance between them. Without the right combination, they drifted away with little effect on the other.

It could have gone either way for them.

But something beyond description pulled them toward each other, without either one questioning it. They desired each other from the moment the bridge between them began to build itself. Neither wanted to let the other go.

"I'm Bard. What's your name?"

"Finny. Nice to meet you."

"Do you have somewhere you need to be…?"

"Not right away…"

Drinks led to dinner, which led to leisure time together, which led to a stable friendship, one in which they both took inexplicable pleasure. Urges arose in both at times when neither thought it was appropriate to act upon them, so sentiments that were stronger than they thought they should be remained hidden.

Hidden, but mutual. Until they finally spilled over.

"Finny…"

The older pair of lips captured the younger one, which did not resist, out of relief – for this is what they had imagined for so long. What needed to be said was expressed in the long moment in which they shared their first kiss. They both understood.

It could have gone either way for them – they could have turned away despite the connection they felt at the beginning, going along with the most sensible course of action.

But they would have missed out on so much.


	41. Forcing

**Forcing**

"Baaaard!"

"Whaaaat?"

"I told you it wouldn't fit!"

"Damn it. You didn't make it big enough!"

"_You_ didn't make yours _small_ enough!"

"How could I possibly make it any smaller, in this state? Seriously, Finny, you should learn your biology."

"What do we do? We have to finish before Mr. Sebastian comes this way… and I'm so hot…"

"Me too, Finny… the only thing we can really do is make yours bigger so I can put this in without hurting anything…"

"But I don't want to!"

"You can do it, Finn. No worries. Just take it easy. There's no need to hurry yet. It's always better if you don't force it."

"Okay…"

Finny ran off to get the shovel so that they could dig deeper into the ground to fit the roots of the young sapling. Mr. Sebastian would not be happy if these maple trees were not transplanted by the end of the afternoon. Bard sighed, holding the young trunk just above the roots, which clung tightly to a cylinder of soil in the shape of the last pot in which it was planted. He dripped sweat. He couldn't wait to get done with this and get cleaned up.

Then maybe he could have his way with Finny when they got back to their room.


	42. Lessons

**Lessons**

Finny knew what a horrible dancer he'd be. He had expected the mortification he was feeling now, under close scrutiny by that omnipotent butler as he and the rest of the Phantomhive staff underwent rigorous dancing lessons; the blush he felt currently burning at his cheeks was far from an unfamiliar sensation.

What bothered him the most was not how unskilled he had proven to be. What bothered him enough to make him almost sick was that he had to be the woman.

Sebastian smiled his mysterious smile, the one that somehow scared everybody witless, encouraging them all to listen to the music and remember the steps he'd just demonstrated minutes beforehand _for the fourth time_ and anyone who couldn't master something this simple couldn't call themselves servants of Phantomhive…

Bard, cigarette unusually absent from between his grinning teeth, seemed to be having more fun at Finny's expense than anyone. Once he grasped the boy's waist during a break in their little class, he twirled him in a wild, presumably American, manner such that Finny tripped over his own feet more than a few times and just about crashed into Maylene almost as often.

When they were finally dismissed from the ballroom by a placid but nonetheless frustrated Sebastian, Bard wasted no time in grabbing Finny once again and dancing merrily down the hallway with him, not caring a bit about the looks he received from the other three servants and the young master. Finny's squeaks of indignation rang through the hallways but were drowned out by the cook's loud and toneless singing.

They finally arrived at the kitchen, and once Finny managed to push Bard's hands off him, he found his lips engaged by the cook, and he did not find that the least bit unpleasant.


	43. Not Fair

Warning: not-completely-innocent!Finny

**Not Fair**

It just wasn't fair.

His hormones told him he needed to be having sex _right now_.

Sebastian was telling him he needed to clean the fountain _right now_.

Sex and a dirty fountain were not an appealing combination.

So Finny found himself scrubbing the scum out of the fountain in front of the mansion, with a badly hidden blush and—thankfully—a better-hidden physical arousal.

He'd never had to deal with this before! It wasn't _fair_! But, he supposed, he'd resisted his sexual development this long, and it was time to face the issue and become a man.

_A very horny man_, he despaired.

And unfortunately, the first person he came across while still dealing with his unbidden desires was the one person who was able to bring them, screaming worse than fangirls, into the forefront of his mind.

It just wasn't fair! His best friend, and a man on top of that, had always had his admiration. But as of recently, he'd had his rapt attention. Finny found himself staring more than was appropriate at Bard the cook, unable to suppress the thoughts that sprang up in his mind.

He'd have a lot of explaining to do if his friend were to pick up on his panic.

But then again… how bad could it really be? Vague thoughts of the things he wanted to do with Bard crossed his mind as he approached the fountain with a fresh bucket of soapy water and a goofy smile. He felt a twitch in his lower regions that gave him away.

_Crap_.

Along came Bard to bring Finny a fresh bucket of soapy water for the fountain. The poor boy with his overactive imagination was flooded with fantasies about the man he had an undeniable crush on. His flushed face could be blamed on exertion, but he couldn't help worrying about more visible signs of his erotic thoughts.

"Hey Fin, Sebastian told me you'd be needing this." Bard held up the bucket in both hands, since it was an older one whose handle had been broken, before setting it on the ground. "Looks good so far!"

The gardener wiped his brow and glanced up at the strong sun. "Thanks!" And his voice cracked, embarrassingly enough. He cleared his throat. "I think I need a break though." _If I could just sit down and cool off…_

"Great! I'm off kitchen duty for now, since Mister High-and-Mighty Butler has a cake to make for Bocchan. Not that I'm complaining." He chuckled. "Want some water?"

Finny smiled, relieved that his friend had a gift for making him feel at ease despite any sort of tension between them, one-sided or not. "Sounds good to me."

Ten minutes, a short walk to the freshwater well around a corner of the grand house, and some relaxed small talk later, Finny found himself staring into a cup of water with every intention of resisting the urge to throw himself at Bard. The cook was chatting up a storm about the morning's kitchen mishaps. His talking stopped rather abruptly as a cup clattered to the floor and all the young boy's determination went flying out the metaphorical window.

_He's a better kisser than I imagined…_ Bard thought vaguely before his mind ceased logical function.


	44. Soldier

Warning: this was written based on my headcanon concerning an extensive scar I envision that Bard got during his time in the military. Drop me a line if this is something I should write more on!

**Soldier**

The soldier's greatest moment was tinged with the bitter, alarming memory of flames and searing. Two of his companions, his friends during war, had their lives returned to them from the perilous brink of death because he had forsaken his own safety. It had left him with a memento that took weeks of immobilization to heal, and even then, it had left him marred and with a sense of shame so strong he would show the marks to no one.

That changed when he'd encountered the only one to force the story out of him since a mysterious black-suited man and the child he served had torn him away from the battlefield. The boy was fragile, but strong; a paradox that the soldier grew to love in the thrill he got from knowing he could be bested at any minute, but that the little one still let him take control. He was the first one to not only tell the soldier that he was beautiful despite such a painful marking, but to convince him that it was true as well.

It was with a light heart that he found himself reveling in the pleasure that such gentle touches to the burn scars on his back brought. Although, he supposed, when such loving ministrations came from the one you loved, it probably made anything less painful.


	45. Being Strong

Warning: first-person POV

**Being Strong**

It's hard for me to kill.

I know that's what I'm supposed to do, if it comes down to that. Mr. Sebastian told us all from the beginning that we'd have to do whatever it takes to protect the Young Master, and when his safety is threatened, I won't hold back.

But it makes me really sad when I think about the people I've hurt. Even with small mistakes, when I let my own strength get out of hand, I feel terribly guilty. It's easier to deal with guilt from breaking a walking stick than from taking a stranger's life. One costs money (and sure enough, it was taken out of my allowance), but the other is worth things that can't even be described. And once they're gone, you can't ever know their whole worth.

The worst time for me was the break-in during the time Miss Elizabeth was staying in the manor. I had to take care of the bodies that were left. Sure, I'd taken out the big guy, and he seemed pretty mean, at least to us. But I also got a look at the small girl, and the boy who was with her. Maylene shot them both, and I don't hold anything against her for that - I really do think she's amazing for her skills - but it was still hard for me to carry them to Mr. Undertaker's carriage for him to take away. They were so young. Maybe even my age. I know they were dangerous to us, but maybe they weren't really bad. I felt like they might have been misguided just a little bit, and if that was the case, then they maybe didn't even have to die.

Thinking that Tanaka-san was the only thing that prevented Miss Elizabeth from finding the body of the boy, too, is a thought that sent shivers down my spine. Maylene cleaned up the blood from the hallway before Elizabeth woke up again in the morning, but there's something scary about the possibility that her innocence could be shattered when it doesn't need to be. It's too late for us servants, but now that we're protectors instead of just witnesses of our various horrors, we have to do whatever it takes to succeed in protecting others, I think.

I really like that we all feel the same way, the three of us. We talked about it over a midnight snack before going to bed that same night (though I think Bard stayed up later than Maylene and me so that he could clean up what was left of the kitchen that got blown up), and we all kind of agreed that this is not only our job, but also our purpose.

I remember the other thing Bard and I talked about before I left him in the kitchen. He stood there, holding a broom and leaning against part of a wall that hadn't been burned, and smashed out his cigarette on the charred counter next to him. He looked older than I'd ever noticed him before, and I told him so. He said. "Hardships age a person, Finny. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is up to you." I told him that I wasn't sure if I understand how it can be a good thing in our case, but that he'd made me feel better. Then he smiled at me, and he looked like he always did. He looked like the Bard I knew and loved.

"Bard," I told him. "Please keep smiling. That way, no matter how much these hardships age us, you'll always look young and happy."

If we're all strong for each other, we're going to be all right.


	46. Theirs

**Theirs**

A day off in the Phantomhive household meant nothing to Sebastian. The ever-attentive butler did not actually get days off. The other servants sometimes found themselves at a loss for things to do, though, and on days like those, they were able to enjoy themselves without the demon breathing down their necks. On days like those, they felt secure in their privacy.

Tanaka could usually be found in the garden with a cup of tea (given that Finny hadn't destroyed the landscape by accident), and Maylene also loved to be outside on nice days. She appreciated the whimsical things in life, like a leaf blowing in the wind or a young bird making a silly-looking landing on a branch.

The cook and the gardener, however, much preferred to spend their free time indoors and otherwise preoccupied with each other. Luckily for them, the other servants didn't have any interest in their whereabouts, so they did not have to share what they had been up to.

It wasn't that they were ashamed of their relationship. It simply made their time together much more intimate when they knew it was theirs and nobody else's. Each kiss brought smiles and small thrills, each glance lingered longer and more luxuriously than usual, and each throaty whisper needed not be spoken as softly as it was.

On the days they got out of their bed only to eat, nobody expressed any curiosity, and the affection they shared was theirs and theirs alone. It was just the way they liked it.


	47. Slipup

Warning: language, angry/angsty Bard, potentially confusing use of italics for thoughts

**Slipup**

"Beats the hell outta me, ya damn brat!"

"But you're the only one who's been in here all day and could have moved it!"

"Well, when _you_ saunter right in and start knocking things over, I sure as hell ain't gonna blame myself for shit like this happening!"

"Jeez, Bard, it's no big deal. I didn't mean for you to get so upset. Besides, I'll clean it up."

The cook sighed, forcing himself to let go of his anger. It wasn't as though he was really upset with the kid; he just always ended up taking out his frustration on him whenever he was around. He ended up hurting him a lot of the time, too, so their time spent together was usually not pleasant.

He couldn't even remember when it had started. He supposed the initial feelings had always been there, but only recently had it become difficult to handle. Only recently had he started to become more foul-mouthed than ever, around everyone, losing his temper at a moment's notice and rarely finding himself at peace. He'd tried relaxing and being nicer, but that only made him more troubled - what good was it to pretend when it did nothing to ease the tempest raging inside him? All this trouble, these conflicted feelings leading to frustration and then to outward hostility - because of one person.

What he feared most about his anger wasn't his actions, but his words. Hurling a sack of sugar at Finny wouldn't actually hurt the boy - it might make the cook's own back twinge a little more than it would have back in his days as a new army recruit, but it wasn't anything that the smaller one's incredible strength couldn't handle. It set Bard's emotions spinning further out of control when he saw the pained look on such fair features after telling him to "piss off" or "wash your own goddamned dishes," and he never knew how to calm himself.

A particular incident in the garden had him yelling until his throat became raw. Finny's work for the day was planting seedlings, and Bard was sent out to round up the servants for their dinner break. While his mind wandered, his feet carried him outdoors and with a start, he found himself staring at the boy crouched near a tender young tree.

"Finny," he started, his voice a noticeably more gentle than it had been lately. "Dinner time."

"Oh, Bard! Look, look, I've gotten almost all of them planted! Want to see me put the last one in the ground? It goes right here…" He pointed to a spot closer to where Bard was standing.

"I don't really care. I'm hungry." _You've no idea how much I want you to show me what you love to do._

"Eh? Okay, but if I finish now then I won't have to come back here and it'll save time later." He used his half-pout, the one that always wrenched the heart when paired with that beautiful optimism of his.

"You'll just be wasting our time while we wait for you, idiot." _But you're so happy when you get lost in your gardening._

"You don't have to wait for me…"

"We won't, then, if you're going to be so inconsiderate." _I wish I could stop hurting you._

"You know, I was just offering because I thought it was being nice. You've been really angry lately, and I know how much these plants help me feel better. I thought it might help you too."

_So you were being considerate… Why do you have to be so nice to me when I'm only beating you down? _"Well, it didn't work. You're so annoying sometimes when you try to help." _Lies! Lies!_

Finny was mad now, and he didn't often get mad. It made Bard more than a bit uneasy. "Why don't you just leave me alone, then, Bard? You don't have to take out your anger on other people! What's got you so down, anyway? We've all noticed, and we just want to help!"

"It's none of your business! You wouldn't understand anyway!" _How could you understand something that I don't even understand myself?_

"Then you're going to have to deal with it on your own, if you don't open up! It _is_ our business, by the way, because we're all in the same boat. Aren't we? We're all friends here." Tears began to mar the gardener's dirt-smudged face. It was too much for Bard to handle and he raised his voice to its limits.

"_You wouldn't understand! _I have to deal with this on my own!"

"So you admit that there's something bothering you?"

Bard shook. Fear, anger? Which was it? He was silent for a long time, breathing hard. Finally, "...Maybe." _How can I tell him, though? He's never going to get it out of me._

Finny's frown softened in his slight surprise. "Yeah? Go on, Bard. It's okay."

_No, it's not…_ Tears blurred his vision. _I've been unforgivably cruel to the most beautiful soul I've ever met… How can it be okay? How could he forgive me?_

_He's so beautiful…_

_You make me want you…_

_But I can't have you, I'm sure of it…_

_And I rage because it breaks my heart and I don't know what to do…_

"_I don't know what to do…"_

_It makes me so angry that I don't know what to do..._

"_Because I think I love you."_

"You… you what?"

_It hurts so much and I can't take it and OH HELL DID I JUST -_

"Finny?"

"Yeah?"

"Did I just say that out loud?"

"I love you too."

A resounding _fump_ was more heard than felt, as Bard was tackled affectionately to the ground, suddenly numb and marveling at how a simple and unintentional slip of the tongue could negate his recent verbal abuse and leaving him feeling lighter than a feather - only, weighed down by a small-framed gardener who was preoccupied with kissing him.

_Well, fuck it all,_ Bard thought amidst his confusion at sudden developments. _This ain't so bad_.


	48. Turbulence

Warning: anger, first person POV

**Turbulence**

He slammed a fist on the cutting board. It had been a long day for all of us, but days like this were especially hard on him. He needed to vent his anger and frustration, and if I got in the way - well, I'd been caught in the crossfire before and it wasn't fun. I would help him fix what he'd broken, once he'd gotten hold of his emotions, but I'd have to get out of his way now. Fast.

But as I tried to scoot past him and out the kitchen door, he caught me by the collar and held me fast. "…Bard?" I looked up at him, a little fearfully, and saw not pure reckless anger in those eyes, but rather something like frustration and maybe even a little bit of craving. _For what?_

And it happened so fast I didn't know what to do. He spun me around by my shirt so that we were facing each other – a little too closely, I thought – and his rough hands moved all around me, touching _me_. I couldn't react, so I think I just stood there looking stupid, looking at him with wide eyes. He avoided eye contact at first, staring at my body, following where his hands went. I didn't know why, but I was scared, even more than I would have been if he'd thrown something at me.

"Finny." When his eyes met mine, the softness and the despair and the _want_ behind them hit me at the same time his fingers tickled the underside of my forearms and I gasped far too loudly. I knew that the gentle kiss he placed on my lips spoke of a desire we'd both harbored unknowingly, and I wasn't about to deny it. Everything became clear, and the turbulent atmosphere left in the wake of Bard's frustration dissipated as we melted into each other's names and each other's arms. In the safety of the kitchen, I let myself become his.


	49. Yet

Warning: first person POV

**Yet**

I can't believe how good it feels when I'm with him. He really knows what he's doing! Ever since the first few times, even just when we started kissing, he knows exactly how to drive me crazy. Like, when we made out one night, I thought we could go on for hours and it would still be just as interesting. But he started touching my neck and laying rough kisses all over my face. It was so exciting! I wish I could do those kinds of things for him, 'cause he just makes me feel this burning passion, but I don't really know what to do to return the favor. He says it's perfect that I don't know. That's what makes him feel that fire. I don't quite understand it.

He whispers sweet words in my ears late at night. I don't know what they all mean, but I know some of them sound wild and horrible. It makes me feel helpless again, though I do kind of like it. He calls it "submission." One time he explained it to me. _When I have control, I get really turned on. Just try not to push me away, okay? Relax. Let me have you all to myself. _He calls me innocent. Am I really that? I suppose so, since I really don't know all the things he's doing or talking about. I wonder sometimes where he learned everything. Does it just come with being older like he is?

I keep agreeing to go further each time. Lately it's hard to get in any real action; the manor's been so busy. But I love the adoring looks he gives me during the daytime, though. We share one of those knowing glances every now and then. I get really energized! I mean, it's so exciting to have a silent little conversation, especially in front of other people, and it makes me really eager to finish my work so we can have some down time. It's amazing how easy it is to sneak around at night, too. Of course, it makes it even more exciting when there's a risk of being caught.

Anyway, last time we snuck out at night, we found a nice place in the forest out back. He sat me up on a low branch, and I could still reach the ground with my feet, and he said something about control. _This makes it harder to escape,_ he told me. Another one of his "submission" things. Later on, he told me about women. _That's why girls wear dresses and fancy shoes. Of course, there's the social standard, but there's an underlying sexual reason - women in skirts can't run away from men in pants._ What about me, I wonder? He knows my strength. I guess he trusts me. That makes me happy.

So on a bright night in the woods, I think I kinda surprised him by leaning forward first. I caught him off-guard with a kiss of my own. I was pleased with myself. I think he was too. _Hmmm,_ he said_. That's nice._ He smiled. I felt fulfilled. But the night wasn't over.


	50. Fifty

**Fifty**

Fifty hours after they met, each was still dealing with their personal adjustments to their new lives. Bard was finally softening to the other servants, acknowledging the relief he felt upon his departure from the military life he'd always known. Finny had stopped recoiling in terror at every small disturbance that threatened his fragile sense of security. Even Maylene had relaxed into the calm safety that manor work provided, never having to take cruel action against the life of another. Just two days after they had all arrived, albeit with little explanation as to why they had been approached by Sebastian, the servants of the Phantomhive estate began to see one another as friends.

Fifty days after they met, the two men had bonded strongly. Though their daily tasks differed, they would find themselves in the other's workspace during the course of their day. When Bard leaned too close to Finny, reaching past him for a saucepan as the small boy perched on the kitchen counter, there was no discomfort. When Finny sat back-to-back against Bard beneath a shade tree after a warm afternoon, they felt perfectly at ease.

Fifty weeks after they met, it had been almost a year and all three new servants were fully trained by Sebastian at strategic techniques for emergencies requiring defense of the estate and its occupants. Their cover jobs, of course, needed a lot more skill than they were able to lend, but the day-in and day-out frustrations that the butler dealt with were becoming the norm. When the cook and the gardener found themselves alone in the staff room while Sebastian took over their jobs, the older of the two leaned down to the blonde boy's lips and kissed him gently, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. The night when they found themselves alone in their shared bedroom became a night filled with physical expressions of the romance they'd been cultivating since they first met.

Fifty months after they met, they had been friends for over four years. Everyone in the household accepted their relationship, and though not often talked about, it was a fact of everyone's life that where one was involved, the other would invariably be as well. Not everyone understood how in love they were, but they knew what the two had would always exist.


	51. Earthquake

**August 1, 2012:** Greetings! I'm not dead, and neither is my Bard/Finny muse, though she's been a bit stressed lately, what with reorganizing this entire work. This has involved revising and reformatting, as well as cutting back by 17 chapters, removing nearly 15,000 words of authors' notes and explicit content (more on that in later updates!), and re-positioning and combining chapters based on topic. **A few surprises may be waiting for you if you go back and read from the beginning**_**, **_**which I recommend for your benefit.**

Warning: AU, abrupt ending, potential for more later if this storyline is of interest.

**Earthquake**

There are certain points in a man's life where he just knows that he's run out of dignity and that no amount of courage can get him through his current predicament without pain. He's worked his way into a corner and he's so embarrassed that all he wants to do is stay right there and hide his face.

But part of being a man is doing whatever he can with the courage he's got left, and to take the pain in stride. So, the young man thought, it was about time he stopped feeling sorry for himself, got off his ass, and did something productive.

So what if he'd just ruined his reputation in front of the whole school? They were jerks, all of the ones who would give him a hard time, and none of them would be worth associating with at all.

So what if the entire male population of the school seemed to be just like that? Ignorant, intolerant bastards like the ones who'd wolf-whistled him all the way out of the cafeteria were a dime a dozen and wouldn't stand as much of a chance at success, or even true happiness, the way Bard knew he did.

But the rest of his time here would be tough if he didn't act fast, face his fears, and stand up for both himself and the other student wrapped up in this mess.

Finny, as he recalled the boy's name was, seemed breakable. In the same way a fine crystal vase on a high shelf would slip to the floor and shatter in an earthquake, the younger boy would unfailingly break under pressure if someone wasn't there to catch him. And as much as his virtue hesitated to admit it, he wanted to be there for the kid.

In the eyes of the school, they had come out as gay, and that was quite a spectacle.

A bulky bully with no daily objective other than to cause suffering for others had made Bard his target, and when a fat foot was stuck out just in time to catch the tough blonde's step, the innocent one he'd knocked over as a result was pinned beneath him in an awkward position. It had not taken long for silence to spread through the lunch crowd, and the bully's companion followed up with the inevitable verbal abuse.

"Aww, shall we give the couple their privacy? Looks like we caught you in a tender moment."

"Shut up, man," came a bold bystander from a nearby table. "It's not like they're really gay, right?"

The worst moment came when the bystander's words went unanswered, the two students on the grimy floor paralyzed in fear and gazes locked on each other. When whispers began whipping around the room at an alarming rate, they both knew they should have said something, but they had no idea what.

"Heh, so it's true then? Who'da thought!" sneered the chubby troublemaker.

Bard was already on his way out the door.

But it was likely time, he thought, to do something. If they all thought he was a freak for liking guys, that wasn't the end of his world, and maybe the girls wouldn't mind so much. They might be able to help him out. He could ask one of them out to clear up the confusion. The other kid, however, had probably been through some trouble in the past hour that the older student had managed to brush off with a quick escape, and the guilt was beginning to get at Bard.

The whispers and stares he encountered as he prowled the hallways in his blind search were not as caustic as they could have been. _Maybe this isn't so bad. _But for Finny, the quiet but bright young kid in his combined gym class, it may not be as easy to handle, and Bard knew he was responsible for fixing that.

A wind stirred up leaves in the air between them as Bard closed the distance between himself and the small figure on the bench behind the grade school's playground. It had taken a thorough search of the entire building after classes had well ended, and he was about to give up hope, but luck found him approaching the boy he'd fallen on top of earlier, in hopes of sorting out the mess he'd gotten them into.

He couldn't quite explain the way his heart skipped a beat when they made eye contact a second time, or the way he ached all over upon noticing Finny's broken demeanor. He'd been responsible for the earthquake; had he been too late to catch the vase?

But he had to start somewhere. "…Hi," was about all he could squeeze out of his unexpectedly tight throat.

"Hi, Bard."


End file.
